Every Day Inspirations April
by madpsychogirl
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the relationships between our favourite characters.
1. Apr 1

_A/N: I can't apologise enough for the appalling job I am doing with my time management. *hugs and loves you all*_

* * *

_**April 1**_

"**We know what happens to people who stay in the middle of the road. They get run down." - **_**Politician Aneurin Bevan.**_

"It's like an April Fools Day prank gone bad." Anthony DiNozzo joked as he took various photographs of the scene. "Could you image that phone call? I'm sorry but Doctor McGoo won't be in work today, he's been hit by a car. Then a few hours later, he walks in-"

"You won't be so fortunate." Gibbs threatened, leaning on his hunches next to Ducky. "We got time of death?"

"Not yet Jethro, be patient."

Grinning, the older man stood up, taking in the scene. The roads had been cordoned off by local LEO's, while Ziva searched the victim's car and McGee interviewed witnesses. Cases were coming thick and fast lately. It didn't surprise Gibbs with the awful things people did to each other, he just wished that his phone called for something other than a dead Marine for once.

"I hate April Fools Day." Tony whined, snapping a close-up of the man at their feet.

"Shocking." McGee appeared, bouncing slightly. "Boss, I-"

"Coming from the Probie that messed around with my desk _drawer_ last year?"

"I've got an eye witness who claims to have seen our victim stop at the lights, get out of his car and sprint into oncoming traffic."

"Maybe it was a dare." Tony suggested, wincing at the eyes that fell on him. "That was inappropriate. I'll carry on with my photographs now."

Gibbs sighed. "Traffic cameras?"

"I'm already getting the data sent back to my computer now."

"You go back with the body. Call me when you get something."

"I've got something..." Tony shouted from behind the car. "Kidding."


	2. Apr 2

_**April 2**_

"**Love does not consist of looking at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction." - **_**Antoine de Saint-Exupery.**_

"What am I missing?" Abby Scuito paced the length of her office, Bert tucked under her arm. "There was no chance of contamination, I'm very careful about that, you know I am. I ran the PCR cycle, then left that to set up the agarose gel. Then... What happened next?" She asked the stuffed hippo, stopping mid-stride. "You're right! Gibbs dropped off my Caf-Pow, leaving after I told him I didn't have anything. Yes, I know, he did kiss me goodbye." She smiled, pacing again. "What am I missing?" Placing the hippo in front of her computer screen, she looked at him, waiting. "Talk to me Bert, please. You need to tell me what I did to mess up the sample. It's something stupid, I know it is."

As always, the hippo simply stared back. Although, if he had moved or replied, Abby would have been even more worried.

"I've got it!" She grasped him up, squeezing him close to her so she could kiss his head. "I knew you'd help me."

"Abby?" Ziva questioned, lingering in the doorway. "Who are you talking to?"

"Bert. You'll never guess what's happened..."


	3. Apr 3

_**April 3**_

"**Self-pity is easily the most destructive of the non-pharmaceutical narcotics; it is addictive, gives momentary pleasure and separates the victim from reality." - **_**John W Gardner.**_

Grief could never completely disappear.

It clung to a person's senses, engulfing their mind and altering their perception. Mood swings, confusion, frustration and the aching in their chest somewhere close to the heart that become a part of them.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't watch a mother cry over her son or a wife over her husband without the same familiar sadness taking over him too. It was something he knew first hand that no parent should ever outlive their children. It went against the laws of nature.

And quite simply, it wasn't fair.

He couldn't protect his family and right now he wasn't capable of helping this one either. Timothy McGee sat next to him, nervously clearing his throat. There wasn't anyone who liked this part of the job.

Gibbs let his mind wander, even though he probably should have been concentrating on the woman in front of him.

He wanted to catch the killer. He wanted to go home and work on his boat. He wanted Shannon and Kelly back in his life.

Two out of three weren't bad.


	4. Apr 4

_**April 4**_

"**Half the useful work in the world consists of combating the harmful work." - **_**Bertrand Russell.**_

"I bet you ten bucks he runs." Anthony DiNozzo stepped out of the driver's side, looking up at the house. "Twenty he runs out the back door."

"I'm not betting against you on this." Timothy McGee followed his co-worker up the path, keeping his voice low. "It's logical he'll take the back door if he's guilty and running."

"Come on Probie, you know you want to bet against me." Tony let his silence allow McGee to contemplate his offer. "Thirty bucks I'm the one to cuff our man," he taunted the younger agent.

"All you have to do is pull rank, that's not..."

The sound of someone shouting inside cut him off. Tony knocked on the door.

"Mr Taylor? We're NCI-"

A door slammed around the back of the house. McGee took off in the direction, ignoring the other man's 'I told you so' jibe.

"NCIS!" He yelled, quickly catching up with the man who'd forgotten to unlock his back gate and was currently struggling to jump the 6ft fence. Tony laughed, not noticing the reason why until the shotgun the man held was pointed right at them.

"Not so funny now, _huh_?"

"Alright sir, calm down and drop the weapon."

"I didn't do it."

"Then why are you running? Guilty men run."

Taylor shrugged. "You look like IRS."

Tony didn't know whether to be offended or not. His suit cost more than those guys spent on chiropractors considering all they did was sit behind a desk all day. _Boring_. Although, if he still had Ziva sitting opposite him, it wouldn't be so-

"That's thirty dollars you owe me." McGee strolled past, cuffed Taylor in front of him. How had he missed _that_?

"We didn't shake on it." Tony argued, following the younger agent back to the car.


	5. Apr 5

_**April 5**_

"**If you were to believe all the bad things that were said about you, you might as well close up shop and go out of business." - **_**Former US President Abraham Lincoln.**_

Jenny Shepard was having one of those days.

No amount of coffee, flirting with the very nice man replacing Cynthia for the week or, dare she admit, chocolate, could help improve it.

A news reporter, obviously with a death wish, decided to run a story on the current partnership between the FBI and NCIS and the suggestion that the incompetency of NCIS meant an innocent man was now being held. How they'd even thought up such lies Jenny wasn't sure. But apparently, Agent Fornell had decided it to be enough to investigate personally.

As if neither of them had anything better to do.

Jethro assured her the reporter downstairs wouldn't be printing anything for a very long time and despite her earlier warnings to the agent, she believed him.

Almost on cue, Jenny smiled at the urgent, "Excuse me sir, you can't-" before the door to her office swung open, to reveal a red faces and jittery Gibbs standing in front of her. This was not good.

"Thank you Jeremy. It's okay."

Jethro waited until his breathing slowed and Jenny had sat down before he made his way over to her. "You're lucky," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

The folder in his hand contained photographs which slipped out as he dropped them in front of her. "Our rogue photographer almost ran these, claiming the Director of NCIS made her way to such a position by-"

"I get it, Jethro. You know Ray came over for..."

"Those pictures were taken at just the right time. It looks like SecNav is-"

She glared at him, leaning back in her chair and trying to work out the kink in her neck. Without saying a word, he stood behind her, kneading the aching muscles, with one soft kiss to her skin as a parting gift.

Maybe there was one thing that never failed to help.


	6. Apr 6

_**April 6**_

"**One soul inhabiting two bodies." - **_**Aristotle.**_

He breathed in.

She breathed out.

Eventually, as with everything else, they'd fall into a rhythm. Synchronization. Understanding. A flawless team.

In such an enclosed space, their senses heightened, the little things seemed so much sharper. The sound of her stomach rumbling. The smell of the soap he'd used that morning. The taste of the rain in the air and dirt surrounding them.

Darkness quickly fell, their eyes relying on the cameras and their other senses. Record but do not approach. A normal, run of the mill stakeout.

* * *

Hours later, behind the safety of four walls, they relaxed. Laughed. Celebrated. In truth, things were easier here. No lies, no hiding and only the two of them together.

The soft brush of his lips against her back as he unzipped the dress she'd worn to dinner. Her fingers finding the tip of his shirt and desperately trying to touch his skin at such an awkward angle. The perfect curve of her body, the way it fit into his as if made that way – purposely for him and only for him.

One look enough to say everything either of them needed to. The sound of wants, aches, pleasure and frustration when it wasn't hard enough. Fast enough. And she knew exactly where to touch him to make him beg.

They _were_ a flawless team dedicated to their job... And each other.

His tongue and lips trailed over her skin, smiling as she squirmed under his touch. In return, he knew she'd make him pay.

The one person that knew him better than he knew himself.

The one person he could never mind having such information.


	7. Apr 7

_**April 7**_

"**I am their leader; I must follow them." - **_**Bertolt Brecht.**_

Jenny Shepard loved watching Gibbs' team.

From the catwalk overlooking them, she could hear their conversations and see their facial expressions without alerting them to her presence. Which, right now, was highly entertaining.

Tony had called a campfire, earning a curse in Hebrew from Ziva, a glare from Gibbs and a comment about his authority from McGee.

A normal day at the office really.

Watching them together, Jenny could easily see why their solve rate challenged that of the other members of NCIS.

"Ziva, what did Mason's father tell you?"

Tony's case, Tony's lead. Rule 38. And, judging by the way Gibbs had let him handle everything that morning, Jenny didn't think he minded the change of pace. Avoiding paperwork and a very angry senator demanding her attention, she had chosen a break in the form of people watching. McGee supplied an answer to which Tony must have liked as he instructed them on what to do next. Gibbs caught her eye as he rose from his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. Passing Tony, the older man touched his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Blabbing to the boss?" She teased, the height difference as he looked up not lost on her. His gaze lingered a little too long on her legs before he reached her eyes.

"Nope. Just informing the Director that one of her agents should be considered for a pay rise." He inclined his head towards the team making their way to the elevator.

"DiNozzo?" She questioned, smiling. "Do you feel okay?"

"Agent Gibbs!" Tony shouted.

"On your six, boss." Jethro yelled back, grinning at the woman in front of him. "Director." He nodded, leaving her stunned as she watched him run across the bullpen to follow his team.


End file.
